


sweet heat

by doublejoint



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:27:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26450026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doublejoint/pseuds/doublejoint
Summary: The smell of her sweat and the salty air of the sea is strong.
Relationships: Araki Masako/Alexandra Garcia
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	sweet heat

**Author's Note:**

> posted sometime earlier on dw for sportsfest
> 
> this is probably somewhere between an M and E rating but i didn't want it to be a letdown for people who came in and expected straight-up porn. but there is sexual content.

Masako’s hair sticks to the back of her neck, a few strands coming undone from her ponytail. Alex is close enough, and her glasses clean enough, to see the droplets of sweat gathered on Masako’s skin, trailing down her arms and settling at her elbows like melting wax. Summer in Akita might not be quite as absolutely hot as it is back in LA, but the humidity is inesecapable, even indoors, and Alex feels like her body might become a swamp, sinking into the sand on the beach and fusing with the contents of her water bottle. Even holding hands gets too sweaty fast, but - Alex wants to do much more than that.

There’s something--a lot of things, really--about Masako in her faded black one-piece and a sun hat, lying on the beach towel. Alex can see the scarred-over old blisters on her feet and the new ones from breaking out her new sandals, the perfect lines of her nails cut short, the silhouette of her body, her waist and hips and breasts and thighs, her arms and wrists and ankles, her neck with her hair off it.. The smell of her sweat and the salty air of the sea is strong, and Alex shifts on her own towel. They should go back, maybe, but they just got here, and Masako’s apartment is a motorcycle ride away, the crisp air finally cool against their skin but Alex up against Masako’s back, her arms wrapped around Masako. Sweat and flesh, clothes that are too thick and too thin. She shifts again, and Masako looks over toward her.

She looks up and down Alex’s body, appreciating the view more brazenly, and Alex sits back, preening just a little, maybe. She knows she looks good, and she knows what Masako likes best about her, her stomach and her hips just where the tan line ends, the insides of her thighs, the slope of her breasts.

“I know we just got here,” says Masako.

“We’re not obligated to stay,” says Alex.

(Getting ready hadn’t even really been an ordeal, just gathering their things together and getting on the motorcycle; finding a spot on the sand was easy.)

“True,” Masako says, the word dragging through her mouth.

“We can always come back,” says Alex, and she stands up, sliding her feet into her sandals.

The ride back is all too long, all too uncomfortable, Alex’s heart hammering against Masako’s back, her nails digging into Masako’s jacket. The wind doesn’t help; the uneven roads really don’t, nor does the walk up to the second floor or the wait for Masako to turn the key in the lock and open the door.

The elastic on Masako’s bathing suit is beginning to fall apart; she can basically step out of it instead of peeling it off, and still not soon enough she’s naked on the bed. There are grains of sand stuck to her feet still, and cleaning that’s going to suck, but that’s a passing thought that falls onto the floor with the sand as Alex pins her down. Her breasts are falling out of her bikini top and she lets them, leaning down against Masako and kissing her neck and chin, biting her ear. It’s so fucking good to see Masako like this, coming undone slowly like the elastic over years, her composure sliding out of her with Alex’s fingers (she’s already so wet, but Alex is one to talk). Alex takes one of Masako’s nipples in her mouth and Masako sighs, quiet but not given begrudgingly, and Alex thumbs over Masako’s clit.

Masako squirms, swears under her breath, and Alex slides two fingers back into her, curling her knuckles. It’s still not enough, right now; she takes out her hand and positions herself betwene Masako’s thighs.

“This okay?”

“Yes, please.”

She’s sweet and wet under Alex’s tongue, squirming still, increasing the friction, and God does it feel good. This--for a minute, five, fifteen, an hour--won’t be enough to satiate either of them, but that doesn’t mean it’s not damn good.


End file.
